


The Bet

by dianamolloy



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:17:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamolloy/pseuds/dianamolloy
Summary: Being a photography assistant for a large publication is great, until the main photographer is in a bad mood and you’re left to get the shots.At least your subject is Tom Hiddleston, who is happy to be accommodating. But who knew he was a betting man.Part of the Six Steamy Sentences tumblr prompt.





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> I was tagged on [Six Steamy Sentences](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/six-steamy-sentences) prompt on [Tumblr](https://dianamolloy.tumblr.com/post/185779654184/tagged-by-lokikingofasgardslover713-tagging) and I like having my fics contained in one place ~~seeing as searching on tumblr is pot luck even when i’m doing so within my own blog~~ so I’m posting here too. I never write Reader and don’t tend to write Tom (sometimes in my head) but it so happened this idea came to mind when I saw that top picture the day before the prompt. I love it when a plan comes together!

                                                                             

Camera lowered and shot obtained you and Tom broke into a laugh at the ridiculous nature of the pose. You were the photo assistant but the photographer himself had been in a bad mood and after taking a few lacklustre photos due to his own lack of interest he had declared he was done and off to the pub, walking out in a cloud of cigarette smoke despite the various no smoking signs.

“I know everyone’s packing up and going but could I take a few more? We don’t actually have enough,” you’d wiggled the Canon in your hand while speaking as the rest of the small team finished gathering their things and started to leave. “I’ll be happy to but won’t won’t he simply refuse to use them?” Tom had queried. He hadn’t been impressed with the lack of professionalism and manners the man had displayed, even if he was known to be eccentric. Or less charitably: a rude bastard. “If they’re good he’ll pretend they’re his, if they’re terrible I’ll be blamed for the lack of usable pictures,” your tone implied you knew this from experience. Which is how Tom Hiddleston had wound up on top of the wooden table as you tried to capture the last of the light behind him with you up there with him using the only properly lit but sparsely decorated room of the rented studio to finish the assignment.

                                                                             

He was still balancing on his heels when you sat down with a light thump on the polished oak, there was only so much squatting you could manage. “OK you can stand down, I don’t know how you’re still like that without wobbling!” you joked, impressed. “Strong thighs,” Tom replied offhandedly but with a smirk that you found yourself easily returning. Oh yes, they clearly were. Extremely. “Eh, they’re ok, I guess. You’ll get tired though, you can’t hold it indefinitely,” you dismissed in a lighthearted manner. “Are you certain? Enough to bet on it?” Tom’s eyes danced with mischief and interest, an interest you definitely returned. “That I could make you fall? That’s easy.” Tom laughed again, “you can’t just push me over.” “OK, OK, I can’t push or pull you over. I guess no tickling, but everything else is game?” you narrowed your eyes and Tom nodded. Challenge accepted.

Scooting off the table you walked around and behind Tom, whose neck craned to follow you. Coming back to one side and leaning in, on tip-toes, you blew gently across his neck. “Doesn’t this count as tickling?” Tom asked trying not to squirm but his shoulder rose to protect his exposed neck, especially when you leant on the table so your breath could reach his nape. It didn’t in your opinion but despite his discomfort he hadn’t so much as swayed. Getting back up to join him, you kneeled in front of Tom, this time getting up close and personal and under his jaw blew gently, earning a small chuckle. You lips brushed the skin and oh yes, there was a slight shifting on his part. Kissing up his cheek, to the corner of his mouth, Tom didn’t wait for you and instead took the initiative on kissing you, pulling his head back after a minute so it was you who, despite being supported by your knees, moved.

Oh he was going to play dirty. Well fine. Your eyes met his and staring him expressionlessly you ran your hands down his chest, feeling Tom tense as if you were about to break the terms and shove him. Your hands travelled lower, to his belt buckle and you pulled the leather free, the metal clanging as it hit the table. Next your fingers unbuttoned and tugged at the zip, the only sounds besides his clothing were your breaths. You had to reach around to his backside to ease the coated fabric down, pulling his underpants with it. Anyone with good eyesight in the buildings opposite if they looked now would see the famous Hiddlesbum, or part of it.

With better access you could free his hardening erection, your eyes still hadn’t left his and you kept his gaze as your body bent forward, capturing the head around you parted lips. Tongue travelling down the shaft, your eyes shut to concentrate on what you were doing, as you sucked wetly up and down his length. Moans of appreciation were followed by a distinctive wobble and Tom tried to catch himself, fingertips brushing the table which you slapped away, eyes still firmly closed but sensing his movements. With the slap you also made a noise of indignation at his cheating, your teeth also lightly pinching at his skin, and the sound vibrated along him and it, along with the sting of the bite was enough to send Tom backwards with a growl of appreciation. “I win,” you said at the same time as a sprawled out Tom uttered, “your turn”.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Six sentences, even if I may have stretched that out and technically this should be split up a bit more, means this is more a ficlet but I hope you enjoyed it 💋


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